Another Thursday

Almost every Thursday I'm dead meat, because almost every Wednesday night I go sing karaoke. You'd think I'd learn. I guess it must be worth it. The lack of sleep hasn't stopped the activity yet.

Kat and I were both ambivalent about going out last night. "You want to?" "I don't know. Do you want to?" So we did.

Gentleman Jim was fighting the technology again last night. Looked like one of the other DJ's from during the week had taken out discs, or moved them around, or something. That really slows down the action in a karaoke club. Ugh. Plus, he was all keyed up again. I wonder what kind of speed he takes. He says he has narcolepsy, and has to take meds to keep him from falling asleep standing up, so he can work. I don't know--he gets pretty manic up there. Talks so fast you can't understand what he's saying.

So, it got to be about 11 p.m., and K wanted to go. I stayed a little longer, because I had two more songs left on the list to sing. What the heck. In for a penny, in for a pound. Today at work was going to be zombie time, anyway.

We need to find a new place to go, though. Every week, the same people; the same song selection, the same damn DJ. And no eligible men, either. Well, if you want your man to have teeth and a few brain cells left, anyway.